


chasin' that neon rainbow

by HearJessRoar



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, like chip dip, mentions of surfer!reggie, the boy has layers, unironic use of country music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27558790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HearJessRoar/pseuds/HearJessRoar
Summary: Luke runs his mouth off without thinking and Reggie's feelings get hurt. Julie won't stand for it.“I didn’t know you surfed,” she says conversationally, taking off her sandals and setting them down beside her. It’s his clue that this is going to be a long talk. “You never struck me as a beach bum.”
Relationships: Alex & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Julie Molina & Reggie
Comments: 51
Kudos: 424





	chasin' that neon rainbow

The sun dips low over the deserted beach, and it’s a very good thing it’s deserted, because Reggie can tell the very second that he becomes visible.

His board sits safely in the sand a few feet upshore as he floats on his back in the salty ocean waves, rocking him like a cradle.

He can’t explain it exactly, but there’s a feeling, a surge, an electric current, that happens when Julie sets foot on the beach, and he just _knows knows knows_ he’s solid and visible. The water feels more _there,_ he feels more...alive.

She doesn’t say anything, and when Reggie lifts his head from the water to look, she’s sitting cross legged in the sand.

Watching him, no judgement.

Julie is great like that.

“How’d you find me?” he calls, though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer.

Julie raises her voice to be heard over the rushing ocean around him, “Alex told me.”

“Figures.”

He rolls over in the water, standing up and letting the ocean drain away from him in fast moving little rivulets. The sun glares off the water like glass, reflecting in blinding rays of pinks and oranges. He turns his back to it, slicking back his sopping hair with one hand.

He picks up his surfboard and carries it over to where Julie sits, sets it back down, and shakes his hair out like a dog.

Julie squeals, trying to shield herself from the sudden onslaught, and Reggie laughs. She pouts at him as he drops to the beach next to her, sand sticking to his bare calves. He knows he’s forgiven when she can’t help grinning back at him.

“I didn’t know you surfed,” she says conversationally, taking off her sandals and setting them down beside her. It’s his clue that this is going to be a long talk. “You never struck me as a beach bum.”

He pulls on his earlobe, trying to dislodge water stuck in his ear. “My family used to live here. I’ve been in the ocean since I could crawl.”

Reggie gestures vaguely behind him. “That bike shop back there is where my house was.”

Her smile turns sympathetic. “I’m so sorry, Reggie.”

He twists his fingers together, avoiding her gaze. “Don’t be. My family was probably better off after a good change of scenery.”

 _better off after I died,_ he doesn’t say.

“Where’d you get the board?” she asks.

Reggie shrugs. “Lost and found in the lifeguard stand. I’m not sure how someone loses a whole surfboard, but hey.”

Julie picks up a handful of sand, lets it sift through her fingers. He draws one leg to his chest and rests his chin on his knee, staring out over the water. She doesn’t ask him what brought on his sudden rediscovery of an old hobby, and Reggie has the feeling that Julie understands.

She bumps her shoulder against his. “Tanya Tucker, or Loretta Lynn?”

He smiles. “Tanya Tucker.”

She pulls out her phone and queues up a radio playlist on Spotify, turning the volume up as loud as it will go.

_...when I die, I may not go to heaven-_

Julie fumbles for the skip button and Reggie laughs so hard he snorts.

“Maybe not that one,” she says sheepishly as the song cuts out, replaced with Dolly Parton’s indignant question of _why’d you come in here lookin’ like that?_

Reggie recovers himself, still chuckling. Julie pokes at his knee. “Are those Alex’s shorts?”

“Yeah. I didn’t have any trunks.”

“He’s gonna kill you.”

Reggie gives her a deadpan look and Julie giggles. He stretches both legs out in front of him and leans back on his palms. “Thought you and Luke were doing a lyrics jam tonight.”

And there it is.

He can’t keep the bitterness out of his tone and he knows that Julie sought him out specifically to talk about what went down in the studio earlier.

Julie sighs, scoots closer to him, and leans her head on his shoulder. Stray droplets of ocean water soak into her hair. “He didn’t mean it, Reggie. Luke’s just-” she trails off uncertainly, chewing on her words and finally deciding on, “Stupid.”

“He’s mean.”

Julie nods. “This time, yeah. He was mean.”

 _And he regretted it immediately,_ she doesn't say, remembering the look of devastation on Luke's face as Reggie stormed out of the studio earlier, so upset he didn't even bother to ghost out, and slammed the door behind him.

Reggie squints out at the setting sun and draws back into himself, pulling both knees up to rest his arm on them. "I've known Luke a really, _really_ long time, Jules. He freaked out and tried to follow me, didn't he?"

She nods, her hair still sticking to his shoulder. "I told him to let me talk to you first. I've never seen you angry, Reggie. It was...kind of scary." she confesses, and Reggie's heart twists.

"I'm sorry, Jules."

She reaches out and loops her arm through his, her fingers resting in the crook of his elbow. "You're just. You're usually so happy. Anger looks _wrong_ on you."

He tips his head to the side so his temple rests against the crown of her head. "My parents spent a lot of time being so mad and so hurt with each other. All they ever did was fight. About my dad's job, about my mom's drinking," he pauses, and gives a regretful sigh, "About me. I decided a long time ago that I never wanted to be like that." he digs his fingers into the warm sand. "Did you know that people yell at you less when they think you’re kind of an idiot?”

Her nails bite into his arm. “You’re not an idiot.”

Reggie nods. “No. I’m not. But acting like a space case has saved me a lot of trouble,"

"The problem is," he continues, gritty sand under his fingernails as he combs the beach absently. "Even the people who are supposed to know better start to treat you like you're stupid. Sometimes you start to believe it yourself."

"Reggie-"

"It's okay."

"It's not. And," she says, straightening up and crawling in front of him to take his hand in both of hers. "Reggie, I read the song. It's _so good._ I don't know why you never showed me your lyrics before." She squeezes his fingers.

He gives her a rueful smile, placing his other hand over hers and says sardonically, "Jules, we both know why."

Julie rolls her eyes. "Yeah well, the band is called _Julie and the Phantoms_ , not _Julie and Luke,_ Reggie. Last I checked, you're one of my Phantoms." She pauses, and then smiles. "Yeah. _My_ Phantoms. I own you guys now."

"We're okay with that," Reggie says, unable to keep from grinning back at her.

She leans forward on her knees and presses her forehead to his the way she does with Flynn. Reggie can’t help how touched he is by the gesture. It's Julie’s little solidarity move, the one she uses to tell someone she's there for them, and it makes him want to cry.

He loves this girl, this amazing girl who makes them all feel alive again, who loves them back and hurts when he hurts and the idea that she's upset because he's upset makes protectiveness growl in his chest.

He wonders if this was how Alex felt about his little sister, this fraternal bond of _If anyone so much as looks at you sideways, I'll snap them in half._

The song changes.

_Well, I ain’t afraid of dyin’, it’s the thought of bein’ dead-_

Julie squeaks and grabs for her phone. “Why are there so many country songs about dying?” she asks despairingly. Reggie yoinks the phone out of her hand before she can skip it.

“I like this one!” he protests, starting the song over. He sings along with Joe Diffie’s mournful drawl for the beginning of the song, then hops to his feet as the beat kicks in, handing Julie back her phone. He holds his hands out to her and pulls her up with him.

 _”Prop me up beside the jukebox if I diiiiiiie,_ ” Reggie sings, dragging Julie into the most exaggerated version of country swing dancing he can manage. She’s laughing, her phone tucked into her back pocket as he spins her. 

_”Lord, I wanna go to heaven, but I don’t wanna go tonight-”_

Their feet get tangled in the sand and she stumbles, still giggling as they both miss the beat trying to recover. He dips her dramatically and the ends of Julie’s loose curls brush the beach.

When he pulls her back up, Julie breaks his hold on her hand to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight hug. She’s on her tippy toes to do it, sinking into the sand. Reggie hugs her back just as tightly, shifting so he’s holding most of her weight off her feet.

The song plays on in the background, and Julie sniffles into his shoulder. “I really am _so_ sorry, Reg. And I know that Luke is, too. It’s not okay to make you feel like your contributions are a joke, because they aren’t. We love your ideas, and we love _you._ "

Reggie smiles into her hair. "Promise? Cross your heart?"

Julie nods. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Don't you dare, it _sucks._ " He says, squeezing her to make her laugh.

He rocks her for a second, then pulls away, his eyes prickling at the corners. But before either of them can say anything, he’s slammed sideways to the ground.

It doesn’t hurt like it should, and it takes him a second to realize it’s because he’s wrapped up in Luke’s arms instead, and that Luke took the brunt of the fall.

“They wouldn’t let me out of the studio!” Luke wails, clutching at Reggie. “I wanted to apologize, and Alex wouldn’t let me leave and then he sat on me-”

Julie is rolling her eyes. Alex pops up next to her in a flash of bluewhitesilver light, looking winded.

“He bit me!” he snaps, pointing at Luke accusingly. 

“Boys-” Julie starts, but she’s drowned out by Luke yelling dramatic sorry’s at both of them. Reggie's ears start to ring. Julie leans down and claps a palm over Luke’s mouth. “You. Be shhhhh. “

And for a moment Reggie is concerned that he’s about to be way too close to one of Luke and Julie’s intense eye contact moments. But Julie suddenly rears back in disgust, her hand held out in front of her like it’s a venomous snake.

 _”Did you seriously just lick my hand?”_ she says, her face twisted in revulsion. “God, what are you, twelve?”

Luke sticks his tongue out at her and lets go of Reggie. As he gets back to his feet, Luke and Julie still bickering back and forth, he thinks, “ _Yeah. This is family._ ”

It’s different than when his parents would fight. This comes from a place of warmth, of fondness and love. It makes his heart feel full, as corny as the phrase is. He knows that he’ll get a real, sincere apology from Luke later, but for now, Reggie retreats over to where Alex stands safely out of range. 

He picks up his newly acquired surfboard and leans against it as they watch Julie chase Luke, threatening him with handfuls of sand as they both stumble on the uneven dunes.

It's gotten chillier as the sun has set, the day's warm breeze cooling as it kisses the ocean, and Reggie shivers. He wishes he had thought to bring his jacket, or at least his shirt. But Alex has his back, and throws his arm over Reggie’s shoulders, bringing him into his side and letting Reggie clutch onto his hoodie.

It's familiar and comforting, and Reggie breathes, something that's been wound too tight all day finally loosening in his chest as his fingers tangle in the pink fabric. 

As much as he adores Julie, as much as she absolutely helped make him feel better, he really needs this last piece of reassurance from his oldest friends, the piece that says, _we've got you, we're sorry, no one is mad at you._

But Alex is suddenly wrapping his arm _too tight too tight_ around him, the comforting pressure suddenly turning hostile-

“Reg. Are those _my shorts-_ ”

_Crap._

**Author's Note:**

> reggie, a baby punk, likes country  
> me, a baby punk, grew up on 80s and 90s country: _my time has come_
> 
> pls comment if you liked it, reggie is my fave boy and i'm so nervy about writing him so melancholy
> 
> and if u liked this one, give my other jatp fics a try if you haven't already


End file.
